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Falcon would have to be blind to know that Mark was desired by anyone who so much as gazed upon him. His face plastered everywhere since he was a teenager with a huge fan following that made their affections quite known.
And Falcon hated it. This jealousy that flared up whenever some other rich asshole cozied their way next to his boyfriend. The blatant flirting and whispered conversations that made Falcon’s blood boil when he caught snippets. Snippets of offers to return to a more private area of wherever they had to be for the evening. Of the mention of a vacant room in the gala hall.
Mark was desired and no one seemed to care that Falcon was still within ear shot. The knowledge that the public was unaware of his and Mark’s relationship making it all that more difficult not to stake his claim on the younger man right then and there.
Falcon’s eyes were drawn to Mark’s wrist. His fingers idly twisting the cuff links of his other sleeve. A nervous tick that perhaps no one would bat an eye at; assuming the billionaire was fixing a fastening that had come loose during the night. But for Falcon, it was his saving grace.
He was already in motion, pulling a phone out of his pocket and approaching Mark with a swift glare at his (albeit unwanted) companion, “Excuse me for the intrusion, Mr. Beaks.” Falcon spoke, resisting the urge to place his hands on Mark. Anywhere. His hip, the small of his back, hell even a shoulder. Anything to ground Mark to his side. But here, he couldn’t. The public eye all but watching every move Mark made. “You have a phone call.” He spoke, handing the phone out to Mark.
“I’m sorry, but we were in the middle of an important conversation!” The other man huffed. He was on the younger side like Mark, perhaps even younger as Falcon took his appearance in. A German shepherd with icy blue eyes with freshly pressed clothes and a watch worth more than Falcon made in a year before working for Mark.
Mark gladly took the phone, holding it up to his ear with his signature smile on his face as he spoke, “Go for Beaks.”
“Well, consider the conversation terminated .” Falcon replied, stepping closer to the younger man.
“Do you even know who I am?” He asked, his voice raising an octave as he straightened his spine.
“No, and I do not care to know.” Falcon growled, the mans tail drooping. He gave one last glare at Falcon before looking back over to Mark before stalking away.
Seconds later Mark was “hanging up” the phone and making his way back to Falcon’s side. “Thanks for the save.” He spoke, his voice barely audible. “He was getting annoying.” Falcon nodded his head, still tracking the shepherd's movements as he made his way to his next potential candidate. “James Shep.” Mark spoke, voicing the answer to the question Falcon was asked just moments ago, “Real sleaze. Inherited his daddy’s money.” He finished, grinning in delight as a waitress passed by them, snagging two flutes of golden champagne from her.
He passed one to Falcon, clinking their glasses together and taking a sip, “How much longer do we have to stay here?” He asked, as if Falcon somehow held all the answers he needed.
Falcon chuckled, “Getting irritated are we?” He asked as Mark downed the rest of his glass.
“I just wanna go home and have some fun.” He replied, shooting Falcon a quick wink that sent a rush of blood to his face.
Falcon gulped, raising his glass to his beak and drowning the glass in one swift motion. He looked down at the younger man and spoke, “I seemed to recall mention of an unoccupied room on the third floor.” He replied and Mark’s face broke out into a grin.
“I like the way you think.” Mark replied.